Page 35 of Wishing for Christmas
Brent gave him a look of appreciation. He knew he needed to end this conversation; he just wasn’t exactly sure why. He patted Will on the shoulder and took Clara by the hand. “Well, we’re gonna go grab some food. Will, we’ll see you out on the dance floor later?”
“You know it.”
The two men shook hands. Clara looked up to give Will a slight smile before they walked away.
“Come on, those hors d’oeuvres look delicious,” Brent said.
Clara let out an obvious sigh of relief.
He had no idea what was going on in her mind, but he was certain of one thing—she didnotwant to talk about the deployment. But why? Did thinking about the past year make her sad? Maybe there was an underlying resentment for what she’d endured.
Brent had nothing but fond memories from the past year as far as their relationship was concerned. Yes, it was hard at times. There were definitely some tough days. But, overall, he enjoyed thinking back on it to appreciate how much they had gone through—together. Obviously, Clara didn’t feel the same way. Maybe she wanted to just forget it had happened. If that was the case, then maybe they weren’t on the same page at all. What did that mean for future deployments? If this one had been so bad she couldn’t even talk about it, would she be willing to go through one again?
Brent felt a quiver in his stomach. No, things were not as they should be. He had his work cut out for him still. He needed to remind her of the positive things that came out of that year. He needed her to see how well they knew each other—to understand their connection was stronger than ever. He needed to prove to her that their relationship then and now was worth everything they had been through.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CLARA
Clara tried to relax and enjoy the party, but her thoughts kept going back to that conversation with Will.
She and Brent stood by the Christmas tree with a group of airmen and their dates. She sipped her champagne as someone told a story from a previous squadron event. Everyone around her found it hilarious, especially Brent. Clara laughed when the others did, a look of interest pasted over her vacant eyes.
Had she really done all Will said? When she’d first been faced with the idea of a long-distance relationship, she knew it wouldn’t be easy. But to spendhourson a phone call? To take the time to actually write letters? Putting together care packages? None of this sounded like her at all. The truth was, that slow-burn type of romance had never really appealed to her. What she had wanted with Brent was a sudden, sweep-you-off-your-feet kind of love.
She supposed it was a good thing she had skipped over all that stuff. It was exactly the type of relationship she feared when Brent had suggested they stay together—a hard one.
Even so, the thought of it now—of putting in all that effort—made her feel something she couldn’t exactly identify. Was it pride? Perhaps it was simply a feeling of accomplishment,of perseverance. Clara laughed at herself, quickly realizing the ridiculousness of her thoughts. She hadn’t actually done any of it. She’d skipped right over it all and was just getting the credit now.
No, Clara knew exactly what she was feeling. Guilt. And it served her right. Shame burned deep in her stomach as she thought again about the compliments Will had paid her. She didn’t deserve any of them. Everyone, including Brent, thought she was the perfect girlfriend. Really, she was a complete fraud.
Clara watched Brent as he stood beside his friends, all doubled over in laughter. He looked up and met her glance. His brown eyes shined in the soft reflection of the tree lights. She could see the creases along his mouth, his cheekbones raised. A shiver of attraction ran through her body. Somethingwashappening between the two of them. Whether or not it was magic, she couldn’t tell yet. The sparks were there, though, floating around, if not flying. Her feelings for him only seemed to grow stronger over the past week as she got to know him better. She appreciated his generous heart and his bright outlook on life. Brent was also really fun to be around. It certainly didn’t hurt that he had the dreamiest dimples too. Clara smiled back at him and felt a lightness in her limbs. What exactlyhadshe missed out on in that yearlong relationship?
“Ladies and gents, it’s time for our annual newlywed, not-so-newlywed game,” Janie’s voice boomed over a microphone, interrupting her thoughts. “We need three couples to volunteer for our first game. Who wants to come on up here and show everyone how much you know about each other?”
Brent’s hand shot in the air.
Clara’s eyes widened. What was he doing? “We’re not newlyweds,” she muttered to him under her breath.
He took her by the hand. “Close enough.” A mischievous smirk spread across his face. “Come on, we got this. Nobody knows each other like we do, right?”
She didn’t know how to answer that. She grabbed a new glass of champagne from a passing tray and followed him. He led her over to the dance floor where three pairs of chairs were set up, each with their backs to each other. She sat down in one and crossed her legs. Brent sat in the chair directly behind her. Two other couples, both clearly excited to be playing, took the seats that had been set out next to theirs.
Clara’s high-heeled foot bounced with nerves as she sipped on her drink.
“Okay, couples,” Janie said. “Y’all know how this works, right? I’ll ask you a question about your partner or your relationship, and you have to write the answer down on your board.” She handed out whiteboards and markers to each of the players. “Your partner will write down their answer as well. We will then reveal your answers to see which ones are a match and—ultimately—to see who knows each other best. Whoever gets the most points is the winner. Simple. Men, you’re up first. Then we will switch to the women.” She wagged a finger. “And no peeking.”
Clara stood and set her drink down on a nearby table so she’d have her hands free to write. She cracked her fingers, then sat back down in the chair. She observed the room. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits as they talked, laughed, and cheered on the three couples in the game. She tried to shake off her nerves and loosen up too. It was just a game.
Janie quieted down the crowd to begin. “Okay, first question, y’all—we’ll start with an easy one. Men, what is your wife’s”—she motioned to Clara—“or fiancée’s, favorite Christmas movie?”
“Easy,” Brent said. She could sense from behind her that he was quickly putting a marker to the whiteboard in his lap.
Clara scribbled down the name of her favorite Christmas movie. She noticed her hand tremble as she wrote, and she reminded herself to relax. Would he know this? She couldn’t remember if they had ever talked about it before. She shrugged.
“Question two, gentlemen,” Janie continued. “When your partner was a child, what did she want to be when she grew up?”
Again, Brent went straight to writing. He seemed to have a lot of confidence on this one too.
